


Love, Simon

by Star4545



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Books, Love Simon References, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 18:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17146841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star4545/pseuds/Star4545
Summary: Simon comes back from winter holiday with cute glasses and books





	Love, Simon

**Author's Note:**

> There are no spoilers to any of the books mentioned.

**Baz**

When Snow comes back from winter holiday, he's wearing glasses, he didn't have them before. I can't help but think how cute he looked with them on; curly hair, freckles, tortoise shell oval glasses. He looks like one of those cliché Tumblr boys; like he would have plants everywhere, drink green tea, and bullet journal Just when I thought he couldn't get hotter because Snow is lying on his bed, reading with those glasses on. I want nothing more than to curl up next to Snow and have him read to me.

"Hello." I say, passively. Simon doesn’t stop reading.

"Hi." He says.

"Did you have a good break?" Snow shrugs.

"How was yours?" I shrug.

"Didn't know you knew how to read, Snow." He flips me off. "Simon vs. the Homosapien Agenda… How arrogant do you have to be to read a book about yourself."

"It isn't about me. It's a book whose main character just happens to be named Simon. Didn't pick it up on purpose." He says, going back to intently reading his book. "I have more books in case you want something to read." I don't know why we are being so civil to one another, maybe it's just the relaxation that break gave us. We have both arrived at Watford a day earlier than we are supposed to, barely anyone is on campus, we have nothing to lose, no one to impress. Plus, I have a crush on him and I think being nice to him would actually give me a chance of him reciprocating those feelings. He just broke up with Agatha after all.

I go over to Simon's bedside where a stack of books is. I have never heard of any of them; they must be written by Normals. I pick up Call Me by Your Name and start skimming through it.

"Why don't you have Magick romance novels? They are so much better than Normal YA." Snow shrugs.

"They aren't gay." I swear I hear Snow mumble, maybe it is my imagination, it definitely is. And if that's the case, I'll find a Magick LGBTQ+ novel, I'm sure there is one.

"I'm going to borrow this one." I say, pretending I didn't hear him.

"Go ahead." I put in on my bedside table, going over to my trunk to start unpacking it. Every so often, I glance up at Simon. He is biting his bottom lip, his eyes trained to page, I've never seen him look so focused on anything. I start to put my clothes away. Snow is already wearing the Watford uniform like he can't wait to start the second half of his sixth year. Mine is on my bed, I stare at it: green and white blazer, a red jumper for colder weather, a tie, maybe I'll wear a cape this year. Then, I put my stuff in the bathroom, making sure it's orderly, before unpacking my books and stationary, putting it on my desk. I wonder if Simon knows I have a crush on him. God, he looks so cute reading. How can anyone look so cute whilst reading?

I go sit on my bed, after moving the uniform, and I start the book. ""Later!" The word, the voice, the attitude." It didn't take me long before I realized the book is about a romance of two men. I look at Snow. He feels me staring and looks at me. I look away. He goes back to his book. I want to read that book. I want him to read it to me.

Once school starts, I catch him every now and again outside of our room, but not in class. We usually make a conscious to avoid each other, we both know what places the other one is at most times, but there Snow is, not following the unspoken rules of years past. I often see him while I'm walking to the catacombs, he'll be sitting on the very edge of the Watford campus by the Wavering Wood or lying on the football pitch before realizing the bridge over the moat would be going up soon and running to Mummers House. I don't know what is going on with him, but he seems content as he reads under the stars.

I can't tell whether those glasses are fake or not. They look real, but some days he just doesn't wear them, and there is no contact lens case in the bathroom. I enjoy seeing him with them on, it looks cute with the uniform. He looks proper smart with those glasses on and ever so adorable. He looks like a nerd and I love it.

I'm walking back to Mummers House after feeding in the catacombs, it's about a month back. It's starting to get cold out, I'm going to start wearing the red jumper. One thing I hate about Mummers House is the student mailboxes, how they are right when you walk in, you literally can't miss it. You are forced to stare at it every time you make the descent to your room. I barely ever get anything except sheet music from my violin teacher with urgent messages to remind me to play while at school. Snow never gets anything, he is an orphan after all, no one to send him letters. Today, there is a message in my mailbox. I furrow my eyebrows. It didn't look like sheet music, it is too small. It is a piece of stationary with my name on the outside in a header that was poorly drawn and crooked. I open it.

_Dear Baz,_

_I saw you playing football today. You were all alone. I was outside and found myself watching you. You are so good. It shouldn't be possible to be that good at football and school and everything else. You were starting to get really sweaty and your hair was falling in your face. You looked so hot (both physically and objectively). I wanted to wipe the sweat off your face. I wanted to play against you. I wanted to push you into the grass of the football pitch and kiss you until we were both out of breath. I think I have a crush on you, big time. But I don't know if you could like me like that and I'm scared._

_Yours truly,_

_Jacques_

Jacques? There is no one in our year with the name Jacques. But I couldn't help thinking about someone watching me play football today. It's winter, so it isn't the season for team, but I like to practice at least once a week. I put the note in my pocket before going to my room. Snow is doing some school work at the desk, I go to the bathroom to shower. I am surprised he is still awake. He is normally asleep when I arrive back from the catacombs. He is in bed by the time I come out of the bathroom, all snuggled up underneath blankets, the window blasting cold air into our room, mixing with Snow's scent of bacon, cinnamon buns, and fire and my scent of dust, cedar, and bergamot. He looks asleep already.

I get under my blankets. I decide to read some of my book. I hear Simon's breathing steady and I relax. I go to sleep soon after, thinking of the mystery boy who sent me the note. I dream about him running up to me on the football pitch, playing a round of footie with me before coming up after a defeat, kissing me on the lips. His hand running under my shirt that is clinging to my sweaty body, him wiping the sweat off my face, moving my wet hair off my face as well. Before I know it, the mystery boy transformed into Snow. I know it can't be him, the handwriting doesn't match. But his glasses pushing up against my face, his heat only making me hotter, but for some reason, it feels good. His blue eyes would meet mine and we would go to our room to cool off together. I often dreamt about Snow and me, this whole crush thing started last year. I love to dream about kissing him. He seems like he would be a good kisser. I wake up right before we step into the dream shower.

I wasn't expecting another note. I wasn't expecting to see Simon playing with Bunce on the football pitch today either, it's been a weird day (Bunce was better at it than he was). But there it is in my mailbox by the time I arrive back from feeding.

_Dear Baz,_

_You are so smart. I wish I had your brain. You are brilliant, actually. You are never going to like a bloke like me. I'm not smart enough to cast Open Sesame right and I'm downright awful at Maths. And here you are top of class. Are you the type of guy who cares about that? Intelligence and crap like that, cause that just isn't me. I hope you aren't because every time I see you, I want to kiss you while doing homework and I don't because I know you will push me away. We are complete opposites. But maybe, one day, you'll see a different side of me that isn't a complete idiot. If we ever get together, will you speak to me about intelligent stuff? Like Zeno's Paradox and the history of spells and art. That would so turn me on._

_It's quiet, I wish you would talk to me._

_Jacques_

For the record, just because I am from a rich, snooty family and just because I wear tailored clothes and want to graduate top of class, does not mean I'm a pompous asshole (at least not all the time and especially when it comes to love because if I was all about intelligence, I would not be in love with Simon Snow.) He is still awake when I get into the room. He is reading the same book he was the beginning of term. He must be a slow reader.

"Hey Baz!" He says a little too enthusiastically.

"Little excited there." Snow rolls his eyes. I'm still holding the note, I hope he doesn't ask what it is. He doesn't. I put it in a drawer where I put the other one and start to get ready for bed. Snow is in his Watford pajamas. "Do you like your book?"

"Uh, yeah, a lot." He says quickly.

"Can I read it after you?" Simon blushes.

"Yeah, okay, sure, yup." He looks panicked.

"Thanks."

I read until Snow decides to go to bed and turns off the lights. I take that as my cue to go to bed.

"Do you like your book?" Snow asks sleepily.

"Yeah." I wanted to say because it's super gay. But I didn't. "But Magick novels are so much better."

"You keep saying that but bring nothing to prove your point." So, he wanted to play this game.

"I'll bring one after our next holiday."

"Deal." I wanted to ask Simon if he knows anything about the letters, but why would he? I guess I just wish it is him.

It's the weekend. I spend more time than I should have reading the book, trying to get my mind off the notes. The book gets sexual and I wasn't expecting it. I wonder if Snow knows about the peach scene. I wonder how he would feel reading it because that's the thing about reading, it's a different experience for everyone and everyone interprets the words in different ways. I would love to see Snow's face reading this. I end up almost finishing it by dinner on Saturday. The day flew by like the pages in the book. I am really enjoying reading it. I catch Simon sitting by the Wavering Wood when I go to the Catacombs and he is still there when I return. There is a note in my mailbox. The heading is getting better with every note.

_Dear Baz,_

_Happy Saturday. I saw you at dinner. I think you missed tea time today. Too bad. Tea time is the best. What kind of tea do you like? I like green tea. Do you like weekends? I do, but not when I have nothing to do. I don't like to think, so I have to keep doing things to keep from not thinking. Summer holiday is for thinking._

_Are you one of those weirdos who studies on Saturdays? Of course, you are, you are top of class._

_Jacques_

Snow comes in while I'm by the mailboxes. He walks straight past me to go upstairs. I follow a few steps behind him. I hear Snow crying in the early morning hours and the room smelt of smoke, he must've had a bad dream. I feel bad. I want to comfort him, but it isn't my place. I hope one day it will be, but for right now it isn't. He is going to destroy me one day if this book doesn't destroy me first.

I go to the library as I'm terribly behind on work and spend all day there. After tea time, Snow and Bunce come in, settling down at their usual table. This is the one place other than our room that is okay to both be at (excluding the bottom floor of the Weeping Tower for meals). I watch him for a minute as he settles down, quietly talking to Bunce about something. They get out their books, spreading them across the table. They must be working on Magickal History with the number of books they have spread out between them. I continue to work through my Magickal Words essay. I start to feel a bit antsy after an hour of straight work. I look back up at Snow. He had a pencil twirling between his fingers, his eyes trained to a page, writing down something every few seconds. Just to have something to do, I put my hair up in a bun. Only one more subject to complete.

I go back to the dorm before Snow, mainly because I want to finish the book before dinner. I'm glad Snow isn't in the room because I end up sobbing. I don't cry often, but I am a mess after that. I hold the book close to my chest. It hit too close to home; the whole pining thing and never getting what you want. Yeah, way too close to home.

I see Snow at dinner. He is laughing with Bunce. Agatha's with them tonight too. I can't help but feel an ounce of jealously of her sitting so close to him even if they are broken up. I play some football with Dev and Niall before feeding. I didn't really feel like going back to my room right away. Today's note states:

_Dear Baz,_

_You look cute when doing school work. I saw you in the library. You kept distracting me. I wish you could help me with homework, but then you would see how much of a git I am. Anyway, you put your hair in a bun and I almost died. Your looks could kill. Do you write in pencil or pen? I always write in pencil because pen always gets on my hands and I mess up too much. Plus, if I have a pen in my hand, I get the urge to draw on my skin, so I use pencil. You probably use a quill or something, you fancy ass. Anyway, you look fucking adorable. Let me know how you do it._

_How? Just how?_

_Jacques._

That night, I dream of making out late at night in the library. Late at night or maybe it's early in term and no one is there. Jacques is sitting on the table, I'm in between his legs. He tastes like green tea and has doodles all over his hands. My hair is a bun. Maybe I'll wear it more like that in real life, give Jacques a run for his money. And like every night, he turns into Snow. His hands are on my ass, pulling me closer and closer until he is lying down on the table and I'm over him. We have to be quiet because we are in a library, but he keeps squeezing my butt, and I want to tell him off or moan or maybe both. We are both sweaty, maybe we came from a game of football. Snow seems like someone who would be good at football, but he really isn't… at all. He is so ungraceful. It's like his limbs work against him. In the end, someone catches us, I think it may have been Agatha or maybe Bunce, and I wake up… hard.

Snow is in the bathroom and I couldn't just get up to start getting ready. I hear the shower running which means I have a good ten minutes. I start wanking, trying to be quiet and discreet, praying Snow doesn't hear me. He doesn't look at me during breakfast. I'm sure he heard me. I might be good at hiding that I'm a gay vampire, but being quiet while _you know_ isn't something, I'm skilled at, especially when thinking about Snow with those fucking glasses.

I can barely focus in my classes today, my mind somewhere else entirely, on someone else. It's not like I really need to focus, I am smarter than most of my classmates (especially Snow, I don't think he listens to the lessons… ever), and I constantly do the homework. I am skilled at magic and have a high level of it, so it won't really hurt if I don't pay attention for one day.

_Dear Baz,_

_You looked like a right old mess at breakfast this morning. Something bothering you? Is it me? I'm so flattered. Have you been sleeping alright? Are you overworking yourself?  Take a break for me, yeah. Read a book or play violin or something. Take a break from school work, Mr. Top of Class._

_To make you laugh and to show you how of a git I am, I got so bored in Magickal History, my whole left palm is covered in scribbles. My pencil broke and someone gave me a pen, bad choice. Then I went to wash it off, I realized it was a Magick pen, meaning it won't come off my skin for a long while. Guess I'm stuck with hearts, cubes, and spirals for a while._

_Remember to breathe,_

_Jacques_

I smile at the note and decide that I would practice my violin as long as Snow isn't in the room. He isn't, so I grab my violin that my parents recently shipped to me. I play a few songs until Snow comes in. I've never played for him before and don't plan on it. I immediately put it away even if I want to practice a few more songs.

"You can keep playing." He says. I ignore him and opt for.

"Are you finished that book yet?" He shakes his head. "You read so slow."

"Fuck you." What a pathetic comeback.

The next day, I get this note.

_Dear Baz,_

_Did you take that break like I told you to? Did you play your violin at all? I bet you are amazing at it. Do you play recitals? Would you play a recital for me? I don't have a musical bone in my body. Then again, I don't think any of the bones in my body work, I'm constantly falling on my face. I even fall on flat ground, but shh I never told you that._

_Can you sing as well or only play violin?_

_Jacques_

I can't sing. I'm a horrendous singer, but violin is melodic and it's simple. I can really feel the music when I play violin. 

The day after that, I get this one.

_Dear Baz,_

_Why weren't you at breakfast? Please don't skip meals. It worries me. What's your favorite food at Watford? Mine has to be the Sour Cherry Scones. They are to die for. I would marry one if I could. I would marry you too._

_I now pronounce you man and scone._

_I now pronounce you husband and husband. That has a nice ring to it. I'm thinking Jacques Grimm-Pitch._

_Jacques._

He says he would marry me. He doesn't even know me. I don't even know him. But Jacques Grimm-Pitch does sound nice.

The day after that, this is what is in my mailbox.

_Dear Baz,_

_I'm going on a rant about your looks today because you need to know how beautiful you are and what it does to me. First off, your hair is luscious. I bet it's soft. I want to run my hands through it. I love when you wear your hair in a bun. Your eyes are like the sky on a rainy day in winter. They are like two different colors and it makes me angry that mine are so plain. Your face is made of so many sharp angles, it's a masterpiece and I want to trace every curve in your face. Your lips are so pale and yet they always look so kissable, especially when you have a smirk on your face, I want to kiss it right off. You are a bit taller than me, but I don't mind because then you'll have to lean down a little to kiss me. You always look so fit in your uniform, like how do you look so good in a green blazer. HOW? Especially because those trousers hug your bum really nicely and ugh. You kill me._

_And I don't just like you for your looks, but those are definitely not a turn off._

_Jacques_

It's kind of nice to know I have a secret admirer. I wear my hair in a bun the next day just for him.

_Dear Baz,_

_YOU WORE YOUR HAIR IN A BUN! It looks so fucking good, if you didn't know. I still can't believe you haven't figured out who I am yet. I feel like if anyone should get it, you should have. You are smart and such. I'm not complaining though, it's easy to talk about you._

_Here's a hint: Jacques a dit you are cute_

_Jacques_

I read the note a couple times, trying to find clues that would lead me to a conclusion, but there is none to be found. When I get up to the dorm, _Simon Vs. the Homosapien Agenda_ is on my bed. Snow has started a different book. I get ready for bed and then start reading. I read it quickly, it is much easier than the other book, and I stay awake way into the night reading it. I finish the book at around 3 in the morning, knowing exactly who sent those notes.

**Simon**

Jacques is French for Simon. Jacques a dit is Simon says

**Baz**

I have no idea what I'm going to do. Do I confront Snow straight out? Do I keep the act going and send back a note?

I decide on the second option.

_Dear Jacques,_

_You are a clever one. Really freaking clever. You might be a twit, but this was honestly clever._

_I would like to take this time to tell you how much I adore you no matter how thick you are. You are so hot. Like you keep talking about me, but have you seen yourself in a mirror. With those glasses on, you look like a social media influencer, you would definitely be Tumblr famous. I love how every time I look at you, I see a new freckle or detail I've never noticed before. Your eyes might be boring, but your hair is beautiful. You have such perfect curls. Your lips are so pink and full. I want to kiss you so badly. You might not be top of class smart, but you are smart in a different way. And I'm smart enough for the both of us. Sometimes I get the undesirable urge to want to help you. You have so much magic and you are so shit at Magickal Words (please let me help you!) I've had a crush on you since fifth year and have been too in my head to do anything about it, but now I see that you like me too. When did you figure it out?_

_To answer some of your questions from past notes: I don't care that much about intelligence when it comes to a person. Then again, you are the only person I've ever had feelings for. When we get together, I will talk about whatever you want me to talk about. I like chai tea and I like the weekends when I have things to do but I also like doing nothing. And I only study on Saturdays if I have to, even top boys need their rest. I write in pen as much as I can, it looks nicer. To get ink off your hands use **Go wash up before dinner.** You, you are bothering me. You are always bothering me. I can't sing. I'm sure you have heard me and if you really want, I'll play you a song or two. _

_I'll wear my hair in a bun whenever you want, and I can't wait to see the doodles on your hands. Also, to kiss you. I can't wait to fucking kiss you into tomorrow._

_Meet me on the football pitch tonight after dinner._

_Baz_

I go to the football field after feeding with a football under one arm and my hair in a bun. Snow is reading under the setting sun, he is wearing his glasses. I sit down next to him. I didn't really know how to proceed. Snow puts his book down, turning towards me.

"Fancy a game of footie?" I ask, casually. 

"This term."

"What?"

"I figured out my crush over holiday." He blurts out.

"So, you just properly figured this out?"

"Yeah, that's why I have all those books."

"You were reading gay novels just to figure out if you had a crush on me?" He shrugs. I couldn't tell if that is cute or sad. "Footie?" I ask, getting up and grabbing the football. I hold a hand out for Snow to grab. I can see his hand is full of doodles. His hand is warm in mine.

Snow is atrocious at football. It's really adorable. He is trying really hard too. We are both sweaty by the time the sun is fully down and we have to run back to Mummers House just to get there before the moat goes up. We take a moment to breath once in our room. Snow starts laughing and I join in. My hair must be a mess, I can feel it coming out of the bun. I put my hair down. I drop the ball on the ground. Snow puts his book on the desk before coming over to me, wiping some of the sweat off my head. I push the mountain of curls off his sweaty forehead. I hold his face in my hands, one hand on each cheek. I duck my head down, leaning down just in the slightest, to kiss his lips.

It's different from my dreams. It's less urgent. It's slow and weird, but amazing. I slip one of my hands into his sweaty curly hair and he puts his arms around me like I'm his world. We are swaying a little bit. His glasses are pressing against my face. I wish he was shorter, so I could pick him up and twirl him. I don't know if I'm strong enough, I would love to try it. His lips detach from mine. I rub my thumb over his lip. He is looking at me with his big, blue eyes. I move my thumb and move my hands to around his waist. I put my forehead on his.

"Fuck. Shit." Snow starts.

"What?"

"I just kissed you."

"Was it bad?" I say, softly. I don't think I've been that soft.

"It was wonderful, Baz."

"Oh, good." I press my lips to his once more. He kisses me back. I don't let it go on for long. I'm sweaty and desperately want to get out of my uniform. "I'm going to shower." Simon nods, going to sit on his bed, picking up a book.

I take a fast shower, coming out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel around my waist. Simon stands up, going into the bathroom. I hear the shower turn back on. "BAZ, YOU USED ALL THE HOT WATER, HOW DARE YOU!" I laugh, quickly putting on my pajamas. Simon comes out in a similar position to how I was a couple minutes ago. He puts on his Watford pajamas and goes into his bed, patting the spot next to him. I sit next to him and kiss his lips.

We kiss for like feels like forever. His warm body making me want to be closer and closer to him. We kiss until we are both tired. I fall asleep in his bed, much too lazy and warm to move over to my bed. I hold Snow close to my body as we sleep. I like being with him like this. I like not fighting.

He wakes up before me, I can feel him antsy in my arms to get to Saturday morning breakfast. We sit at our own table, away from Bunce or Agatha, Dev or Niall. I can feel their eyes on us. Bunce whisks Snow away after we finish. I don't see him until after dinner. I get back before him, looking at the other books Snow has. He comes in before I can pick one to read. He smiles at me, I smile back.

"Want to read together?" He asks me. I nod. We push the beds together and cuddle close to one another. He picks up one of the books we both haven't read. "I'll start reading and then you can join in." He says.

"Are your glasses real?" Snow starts laughing, shaking his head. "Why'd you get them then?"

"Fashion statement?" He says, almost like a question.

"They're cute."

"You're cute."

"You are so cheesy."

"Like a YA romance novel."

"Exactly." I put my head on his shoulder. "Start reading, Chosen One." It turns out Snow can read.

I could never find a LGBTQ+ Magick novel, I guess we weren't progressive enough. But through reading I got everything I've ever wanted. I got Simon Snow. Sometimes if he wakes up before me to insure he gets a Sour Cherry Scone at breakfast, he will leave me a note signing it Love, Simon.

 


End file.
